The Last Mile

Do you like Terrence McNally's stage plays? If so, you'll probably like his television play "The Last Mile" just fine.

If, on the other hand, you find McNally narrow and self-referential in his concerns; if it seems to you that he displays his passions rather than sharing them; if you suspect that, deep down, he genuinely despises women -- well, "The Last Mile" won't change your mind one bit.

It doesn't help that Bernadette Peters gives what may be the worst performance of her career. Granted, she's a singer, but there is a world of difference between belting into a microphone that's an inch away and singing opera. Every time Peters opens her mouth to "sing," she tells us that she doesn't know a thing about the latter. (Paul Sorvino, a classically trained tenor, does a lot better with this, and whomever that is dubbing Peters is awfully good!)

This short, one-act play concerns a young singer about to debut in big-time opera. She is sitting in her dressing room waiting for her cue, and talking out her nervousness with the imagined ghost of her dead brother. The dialog is intelligent. The play is devoid of action, but engrossing. There is an odd bit when she leaves the room and her brother ceases to exist. There is a moment of silence and then you hear his voice saying, "Boy! Rooms sure are empty when there's no one in them." It could have made an excellent TV series about a part of the music world that people rarely see. Bernadette Peters plays the young singer and brings a warmth and vulnerability to a role that has often been caricatured in the past, i.e. an opera singer, but virtually never shown simply as a real person doing a real job.